A Trained Professional

Movieverse. Logan/Tony. NC-17. ~4700 words.
If they’d been in the field, Tony might’ve been worried.

“This is nice,” Tony said, gazing out over the expansive grounds. He slung his hands in his pockets for something to do without a drink to hold. “Very old money.”

“It is a heritage estate, yes.” Gears whirred quietly as Xavier rounded the edge of the oversized antique desk. Maybe if he asked, the professor would let him tinker with the chair while they waited. Nitrous was like Viagra. Everybody loved it. “Everything but the east wing is original.”

“Everything?”

Xavier spread his hands. “I’m told the refrigerator is also new.”

Though Xavier had said his next class wasn’t scheduled for another hour, the door to his study burst open. “Hey, prof,” said the guy, belatedly rapping on the stout wood, “when’s the- Oh. Sorry. Didn’t know you had company.”

“Which is why knocking customarily occurs before entering, not after,” Xavier said. “Logan, this is Tony Stark. Mr. Stark is here on business.”

And Mr. Stark had just found where they’d been hiding the eye candy.

Logan lifted a hand, already halfway back out the door. “Nice to meet ya. Sorry for barging in.” The voice went with the face, nicely rough around the edges.

“Wait, Logan.” Xavier glided forward a few feet. He handled the chair as if it were a part of himself. “Scott is running late. Perhaps you could show Mr. Stark the mansion.”

Logan’s face went flat. He still looked edible, though that probably had more to do with how he’d packed himself into those jeans than anything. “I ain’t a tour guide.”

“I’d love to see the place,” Tony cut in. “I’m big on architecture. Huge fan.”

“Excellent. Logan, if you would.”

Logan huffed out a breath. For a guy fully decked out in lumberjack couture, it was practically a snit. “Fine. C’mon.”

“Beautiful,” Tony said, heading for the door with a wave to Xavier. “Can we start with the liquor cabinet?”

“This is a school.”

“All the more reason.”

The halls were quiet. It was nearing three in the afternoon, so Tony assumed classes were still in session. Busy thinking of ways to wriggle his way into his guide’s good graces–and tight jeans–he didn’t notice the vision that had turned the corner until Logan said, “Hey, Storm-”

“Save it, Logan,” the woman said, breezing by, the smell of exotic flowers and crisp ozone swirling in her wake. “He’s all yours.”

She was gone before Tony could compliment her on the unique silver-white of her hair or the sultry curve of her hips. Just because he was in the mood for a bit of rougher trade right now didn’t mean he couldn’t keep his options open for later.

Logan glowered at the door she’d closed very firmly behind her, his nose twitching.

“You heard the lady,” Tony said. “I’m all yours.”

Logan’s gaze shifted three inches to the left. “You’re one of those guys who really likes listening to the sound of his own voice, aren’t you.”

“Yours isn’t so bad.”

Under his breath, Logan muttered, “Christ.”

Never one to be deterred, Tony rubbed his hands together. “Where to first? And don’t say the gardens. I saw enough foliage on the drive up to last until next Fall. How about the hangar?”

“The hangar.”

“Whose navigational chips do you think are in that thing?”

Logan cocked a brow, recognition lighting his eyes. “Oh, you’re that guy. Makes sense now. Couldn’t figure out why Mr. Perfection blew you off.”

Most people might’ve taken that as an insult. Tony, though, was not most people, and he’d have thrown in the towel long ago if he were that easy to needle. “My reputation precedes me.”

“Looks like.”

“Up for it?”

For a second, Tony thought that one flew right over Logan’s head, and then he said, “I thought you wanted a tour.”

So much for the direct approach. Satisfied with sneaky, Tony gestured for Logan to lead the way. “Show me what you’ve got.”

All right, so it wasn’t that sneaky.

Logan snorted quietly and headed down the hall. Silence reigned.

Never one for too much of that, Tony said, “Logan doesn’t sound like a codename.”

“‘Cause it’s not.”

“So what else do they call you? ‘Bunyan Brute’? ‘The Flannel Flyer’?”

A sound like a growl trickled out between Logan’s clenched teeth.

Sure, he knew better than to poke at the Wolverine with pointy verbal sticks, but he was curious. Jarvis hadn’t been able to dig up much dirt, which either meant someone had managed to hide information from Tony’s expert hand (inconceivable) or there wasn’t that much out there to be had (only slightly more conceivable).

He knew bits and pieces, words like ‘government’ and ‘project’ cropping up in the same sentence. Pretty much just enough to make him really curious, and to seriously consider digging deeper.

“Wait, I know-”

Logan’s hand snapped out. Tony’s heart somersaulted up into his throat, a perfect 9.0, but Logan had been aiming for an unobtrusive elevator call button, not him.

Logan smirked.

A short trip down, two steel-plated hallways and three and a half non-communicative grunts from Logan later, they entered a blank cavernous room. Tony’s pulse slammed up a few notches. He’d seen the schematics for this place. While holographic technology was not his forte, he’d become the go-to guy for sensory feedback.

Jarvis still hadn’t run out of cracks about that one.

“Up for it?” Logan asked, his voice like a slow tumble of stone.

Without his suit? Hell no. He’d be a virtual smear in five minutes flat. “Prime grade human over here.”

That smirk still in place, Logan said, “I know.”

Now that was a challenge. “How about a demonstration?” He shrugged out of his jacket and tucked his tie between the buttons of his shirt “Plug me in as civilian bystander.”

“Ain’t a babysitter, either.”

After a quick glance around, Tony found an internal control panel. He slung his jacket beside it and started poking. “It’s going to look like shit on your record when something squishes me.”

The quiet whump of cloth hitting steel brought Tony’s head up as the lights went down. The flex of muscle in Logan’s bare arms made his mouth go wet. He’d bet his portfolio the rest was just as ripped.

Ten seconds to initiation,” a female voice announced as he rejoined Logan in the centre of the room and tossed him one of the small earpieces.

“Better stand back,” Logan warned.

That was it. No questions about the program level, the terrain, nothing. If they’d been in the field, Tony might’ve been worried. In here he was too busy staring at Logan’s fists waiting for those claws to make their debut appearance.

“A case of pilsner says you can’t keep me alive for ten minutes.”

Logan grunted. He decided it meant the bet was on.

With three seconds left on the clock, Logan’s arms came up and the muffled scrape of steel on steel echoed loud in Tony’s ears. Claws gleamed in the dim light, sleek and dangerous.

Sexy.

Then the lights cut completely and Tony said, “Show time.”

The darkness took on a murky red-tinge. A brief flash of lightning cut through the haze and thunder rolled in the distance. He picked out the shape of a twisted car through the first of several quick flashes, then an overturned transport of some sort responsible for pumping out the smoke thickening the air. His lungs burned as if it were real.

Nothing moved, not even Logan, who stood stock-still scenting the illusionary breeze.

Rusty metal groaned. The car’s front door snapped off with a crack of noise like a gunshot and crashed to the ground.

“Hard on the nerves,” Tony commented.

A hand clamped over his mouth. He stopped short of punching whatever the hell it was when he caught the glint of Logan’s claws all of one inch from his face. He’d really like to know when Logan had gotten behind him.

“Fuckin’ stealth missions,” Logan growled in his ear.

“Oops?”

“Shut up.”

Tony would swear the graze of lips against his ear became teeth after Logan said, “And don’t move.” With herculean effort, he managed to do both. He figured the effort would be worth it for maybe two minutes tops.

The low whine started up a few seconds after that. He squinted into the dark as Logan stepped back and the noise grew steadily louder. Even knowing it was all in his head, his pulse picked up again.

“God damn it,” Logan muttered.

“What-”

A small supernova went off less than five feet away. Tony threw up his arms to shield his face as the blast of heat roiled over him, searing his skin and stealing the breath from his lungs. A second explosion buffeted him from behind a split-second later.

Logan streaked by, teeth bared and claws flashing, his arms blackened to the elbow. He launched straight for a tiny pinprick of light, snarling as he lashed out and darted to the side in the exact same moment.

The blast caught him full in the back and sent him sprawling into the dirt. Halfway through the skid turned into a roll and he bounced up on his feet right in front of Tony’s face, his shirt and more than a few layers of burnt skin flaking off his back.

“Holy shit.”

“Five left,” Logan said. “Worried?”

He hadn’t expected to see the physical damage Logan had taken represented so realistically. Hell, for all he really knew, when he’d selected Logan’s profile, it had authorised the use of live rounds.

Squinting wildly into the murk, Tony said, “I’d rather not explode.”

“Hey, you were the one pushing buttons. Get down.”

Tony dropped to his knees without a second thought. Finding his face level with Logan’s groin, he tossed a grin up and caught a flash of teeth that could’ve been a snarl or a smile before that same whining started up again.

Stomping down his first instinct to turn and look, Tony ducked his head, braced for the crack and sizzle. He risked a glance up when he felt Logan dash by, charred bits of metal sloughing off his claws. Two more explosions followed, the whining racked up to a steady ear-piercing shriek.

“Roll to your ten!” Logan shouted, and Tony tore his hands away from his ears to tumble through the dirt. Grit and the acrid taste of smoke got into his mouth and he spat, trying to clear it.

Had it been five minutes left, or five of those things?

Three deafening explosions later he had his answer. They were coming faster now, practically one right after the other, and he watched in fascination as Logan wove between the blasts, sweat streaking gleaming tracks through the soot blackening his skin.

Another one went off way too close for comfort. Through the bright orange flare he saw one more heading straight for him. He scrambled up on his knees only to be knocked flat a second later, his teeth grit against the flare of pain that was to follow.

It took him long seconds to figure out it was Logan’s weight heavy on his back, pinning him down and sheltering him from the worst of the blast. Then the blaze was gone and it was just them sprawled in the middle of the exercise room, his breaths loud and panicked and Logan barely winded.

But the shredded mess of Logan’s shirt remained, the thick streaks of red and burnt black on his back real. Tony swallowed hard. Live rounds after all.

Logan’s low chuckle rumbled through his back.

“You’re a dick. No, don’t get up.” With a good bit of determined wiggling and a tiny sliver of breathing space, Tony squirmed over onto his back. “I like that you’re a dick.”

“I like that you owe me a case of beer.”

“No beer here. But here we are, and you’re all worked up, and I’m all worked up.” Tugging what was left of Logan’s undershirt out of the way, Tony slid both hands as far as he could reach beneath the tight band of his jeans. For proper emphasis he braced as best he could with so many hundred pounds of mutant on top of him and rocked up. “You can pop my mutant cherry.”

“Your mutant cherry,” Logan echoed, his voice flat but his mouth twitching upwards at one corner.

“Sure,” Tony said. “Never been done by a mutant before.” Well, he didn’t think he had, but that was a small technicality. Nothing to worry about. “Lube’s in my left pocket.”

Like he didn’t believe it, Logan went searching. Tony helpfully arched up, an added wriggle or two getting his left leg unpinned so he could spread his knees and settle Logan firmly between them.

When Logan lifted an eyebrow, small packet of Gun Oil in hand, Tony shrugged. “I should’ve been a Boy Scout.”

“Should’ve stayed on your belly.”

Lust like one of those bombs hit Tony right in the nuts. “You want me to roll back over, no problem.” There wasn’t much purchase but he gave it a good shot and managed to get only a little distracted by the firm heat of Logan’s cock digging into his hip.

Logan’s weight vanished entirely a second later. Protest rose up and died right on the tip of his tongue as wide hands took hold and flipped him.

“That works too,” he said as strong, thick fingers pushed beneath him to find his belt and start tugging it free. He levered up on his elbows with a mind to help.

One of those hands landed smack in the middle of his back and shoved him to the cool floor. Logan’s breath stirred the hair curled close to his ear. “Stay down.”

“How about some incentive?” he asked, pillowing his cheek on his folded hands. “I’ll even give you a hint.”

“My dick in your ass isn’t incentive enough?”

A shiver chased the hot dirty rush of that down the back of Tony’s neck. “Not bad. Not what I was thinking but I have to admit, I’m a sucker for sweet talk.”

Logan’s answer was shucking his pants all the way down to his knees. He jolted away from the cold steel pressing against his cock, hissing a curse. Chances were good if he interrupted Logan to suggest they move this to a bed, or even a swatch of something not second cousin to the Arctic, they wouldn’t get back to it. And that just wouldn’t fly.

Logan’s weight settled over him again, all rough heat in sharp contrast to the smooth chill under him. A hand fisted his shirt near his shoulder, the seam at the arm and the buttoned collar digging in as Logan’s grip tightened.

“Breathplay’s not until the second date,” Tony said, lifting his head to ease the pressure. He sucked in a quick breath as Logan’s fingers slipped around his throat. His was going to have bruises on the insides of his ribs at this rate, his heart was knocking around in there so hard.

Logan flicked open the topmost button. “Little late to be worried.” The next two followed, the fourth out of reach as long as he held Tony down, and he yanked at the shirt still caught up in his grip, dragging the collar out from under Tony’s tie and further down in the back. His mouth pressed to a patch of bared skin as he breathed in deep and released it slowly, the heat and his whiskers sending ticklish pleasure skittering out along Tony’s arms. “You smell worried.”

“Nah,” Tony said, taking Outright Lie for five hundred. “Mutant cherry, remember? Colour me virginal.”

Logan huffed a laugh against the back of his neck. His skin prickled as he heard the foil packet tear, and he hiked his knee up a little as Logan’s weight shifted, giving the green light for Logan’s slick fingers to run up between the cheeks of his ass.

One finger barely touched him before sliding in, slippery and slow and only a little easy. He felt more than heard the grunt Logan muffled against his neck.

“Told you,” he said, taking a second to focus, relax as Logan drew back to push in again. “Give me a kiss, that’ll loosen me up.”

“Maybe shut you up, too.”

Logan’s bulk eased mostly off of him and he turned his head to find Logan’s mouth right there all of two seconds before Logan’s tongue skimmed over his lips. He opened up for it, fully appreciative of the take-charge attitude. Some of the best fucks he’d ever had were the ones where all he had to do was hang on and enjoy the ride.

“That’s it,” he said, words slurred by the press of Logan’s mouth. He bit at Logan’s lips and rubbed cheeks, liking the scratch of Logan’s whiskers on his clean-shaven skin and then the catch and drag when his chin met scruffy jawline. “Keep it easy.”

Grumbling something about still talking, Logan moved to take his mouth again and he spoiled it with a grin. “You could talk instead,” he suggested. “That line you were running earlier was good.”

Logan’s fingers clamped under his chin, and just to be an ass, he kept talking while Logan tried to kiss him again. The result was a garbled mess and sharp-edged teeth digging into his lip. He gave up and let it happen right around the same time Logan decided what he needed was another finger up his ass.

He was forced to agree. Logan’s fingers were thick, strong, and it was like Logan could read him better than he could, the pressure right on his prostate easing before it was too much, increasing again as soon as he’d caught his breath.

“Four out of five for technique,” Tony grunted, pushing up from his elbows to the heels of his hands. Only one of Logan’s legs was still carelessly flung across his, and it slipped away along with Logan’s hand as Tony shoved at his shoulder, urging him to lie back.

Logan rolled easily, arm tucked under his head and slick fingers trailing a mess up the inside of one thigh while Tony spared a thought for what to do with the tangle of his slacks around his ankles. In the end, he only bothered to tug one foot free, a hell of a lot more interested in finding out how pretty a package Logan was toting around.

Yanking Logan’s jeans down just far enough, Tony dipped a hand under the waistband of cottony-soft boxer briefs and pulled out cock and balls both. His mouth went as wet at the desert in the middle of a flash flood and he tugged Logan’s clothes down a little more, only slightly disappointed when Logan didn’t bitch about being the one with his ass on the cold floor this time.

“So that shuts you up, huh,” Logan said, curling shiny fingers around his own cock. “Got a rubber?”

“You want me to put a jacket on this very fine dick?” And as nice as Logan jacking was to watch, Tony was keen to get a feel of it for himself. He batted Logan’s hand out of the way and wrapped both of his around the wide length, his body clenching tight in anticipation.

Logan shrugged, fingers digging briefly into the cheek of Tony’s ass before sliding over his hole. “It’s your ass.”

“So don’t make a mess in it.” Stretching out, Tony nabbed the leaking packet and squeezed what was left over Logan’s cock and fingers. Glistening drops caught in the short dark hair around the base of Logan’s dick, gorgeous to look at framed by the powerful muscles of Logan’s firm belly and the haphazard slant of his open fly.

“Just gonna look at it?”

Tony grinned, corner of his lip caught between his teeth. “Savouring the moment.” He couldn’t remember the last time he’d went without a rubber. Too bad he had business to do or he’d say fuck it and take the shot of come up the ass while he had the chance.

The flat of Logan’s hand slapped hard to his flank. “Save it for later,” Logan said, and hauled him up like he weighed nothing, grip digging in hard under his ribs. He twisted around to grab at Logan’s cock and wedge the head against his hole, his teeth close to slicing through his lip as he sank down.

Halfway there, he had to stop and catch his breath. As thick as Logan felt in his hand, it seemed a hell of a lot bigger shoving inside him. “Hang on,” he said, voice dropping into a groan as Logan kept going a few long, gritty seconds more.

Logan grunted and hauled him back up, earning a protest in the opposite direction as Tony lost his cock entirely. He didn’t wait for Tony to work up the spit to form words, switching his grip so he held his cock steady and pushed Tony down onto it, gaining at first an inch more than before and then the whole thing, smooth and steady.

Tony slumped forward with a moan. Logan ground up into him, holding him in place with hands on his hips as his voice crawled up those few lost octaves, shamelessly loud and the walls echoing his appreciation back at him.

“Ease up,” he said, rising as soon as Logan’s grip loosened enough to allow it and sinking back down with a slow grind of his own. A few more rounds of that and the strain turned to a smooth push, the sharp-edged pleasure that had been snaking out along his nerves mellowing.

He braced his hands on Logan’s chest, fingertips digging into hard muscle. Wanting the feel of bare skin against his palms, he shoved them under Logan’s shirt, losing his balance for a split-second as Logan thrust up. He wavered, hand skidding up through the scatter of hair on Logan’s chest, and bit off a short laugh when he caught sight of the grin on Logan’s face.

“Said you were a dick,” Tony breathed, resettling to pick up the pace. “Can’t let a man just enjoy the ride.”

“That what this is?” Logan gathered up a fistful of his shirttails, wrist grazing his dick as he rucked it up out of the way. “Thought you were still warming up.”

“Do you really think taunting is the way to go here?” But it so was, and Tony dropped down, chest to chest with Logan as his knees splayed wide.

“Guess so,” Logan said, lopsided half-smirk firmly in place as he pinned one of Tony’s arms behind his back, using it to hold him fast while giving a hard thrust up.

Tony let out a grunt, not expecting Logan’s dick to go so deep so quickly like this. He twisted out of the hold to grab up two handfuls of Logan’s hair between that thrust and the next, his breath shoved out of his lungs and shunted back in his face as Logan kept it slow and hard.

“Jerk me off,” he said, aiming for a kiss and catching the side of Logan’s mouth instead.

Logan gave him a look like a shrug and wormed a hand between them, keeping the other on his hip. He spilled another moan straight into Logan’s mouth as Logan gripped him tight, going right for no-nonsense strokes that made him tense up for a second. His body clamped down, and the slide of Logan’s cock almost all the way out of him turned to a rough drag.

He rocked back, meant to ride Logan as his orgasm built, but either he was too slow or he was closer than he’d thought. What should’ve been a slow ride ended up more like a frantic rut, him fucking Logan’s fist while Logan braced and arched up, stuffed him full with nowhere to go and nothing to do except take it.

“Better,” Logan said, the low grate of his voice sinking deep as the ache in Tony’s gut. “Not thinkin’ now, are ya?

Tony sucked in a breath for a smartass reply and lost it all on a ragged groan when Logan ground up into him. He started to shake, craving being fucked again, not just filled, and squirmed against the hold Logan had on him.

“That’s it, that’s what I like,” Logan said. He let go to cup his palm over the head of Tony’s dick and Tony rocked forward, the gritty friction of Logan’s cock pulling out of him setting him off like a firecracker.

He hadn’t even had a chance to catch his breath before Logan smeared his own come over his ass and rolled them over, the shock of the freezing floor not enough to distract him from the greedy shove of Logan back into his ass. His cock gave a hard twitch, spilling one last thick trail of come over his belly.

He hitched a leg up and grabbed onto Logan’s broad shoulders, head thrown back and body arched. Teeth grazed his throat and he swallowed, choked on a groan as Logan bit down. A low, guttural growl hummed against his skin and he held on tighter, writhed, did anything and everything to keep Logan going.

Then he choked for real, his tie yanked tight across his throat and his eyes flying wide as his mouth fell open. Logan shoved in hard, froze for a split-second before dropping to lick into his mouth. A spasm locked him up tight, gut reaction to being filled up, pinned down, controlled, and Logan spilled a groan straight down his throat.

Logan kept on kissing him as he came back down from that spike, slowly but not gently, edgy like he was making sure his territory stayed marked. Tony managed a clumsy pat to his ass, too lethargic to bother with trying for another more. He got an absent growl in response.

“Floor’s cold,” he mumbled, lazily returning the flick of Logan’s tongue over his lips.

Logan eased back and blinked a few times, his eyes still a little unfocused like he wasn’t all the way back down to earth yet.

“And you so took advantage of me,” Tony went on. “Breathplay and a creampie. You could’ve at least bought me a drink first.”

Dumbfounded, Logan said, “You’re complaining.”

“Nah, not really.” Tony pointed a finger in front of Logan’s face. “But you owe me one of those beers I’m buying you.”

Logan grunted something that sounded like, “Fine,” and withdrew nice and easy, sending shivers chasing one another up Tony’s spine. Before Tony had a chance to move, Logan grabbed him just behind the knees and rolled him halfway onto his side, legs shoved together and up.

Casually, ass bared and leaking come, Tony pushed up on his elbows. “Dirtier than I gave you credit for.”

Logan’s big hand smacked down on his ass and spread him open. He forced abused muscle to loosen, gave a tentative push–first time somebody’s wanted to see him dripping like that–and sucked in a harsh breath when Logan’s thick fingers slid up through the mess and pushed it back into him.

“Rather you keep it,” Logan said, slapping his hole to make him tense up. “Maybe I’ll remember not to gut you if you smell like me.”

Tony flopped back with a laugh, dizzied and drained and high all at once. “At least I can claim I tangled with the Wolverine and lived to limp away.”

Logan gave him a hand up. It only took about ten seconds of squirming and bitching for Logan to march over to the console and yank out one of the rough first aid towels from the supplies to throw at him.

“Find me after you’re done with One-eye,” Logan said, hauling his flannel back on and leaving it hanging open. He watched Tony tuck in and zip up before heading for the door. “And bring my beer.”

“Still counts as the first date!” Tony called, grinning as he smoothed his tie back into place. A new contract in the works and a few X’s added to the X-Men. Not a bad day’s work.

End

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